


Pet's First Everything

by TinyDaydreams



Series: The Owner’s Guide to Proper Hybrid Care and Maintenance [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bred for sex, Breeding Kink, Collars, Human-Animal Hybrids, Leashes, M/M, Master/Pet, Medical Kink, Multi, Pet Play, Praise Kink, Sex Slave, Sexual Fantasy, Spitroasting, no refractory periods in this universe, quasi-bestiality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyDaydreams/pseuds/TinyDaydreams
Summary: Sam and Greg have been waiting months for their hybrid to arrive. It turns out all that waiting was worth it.
Relationships: OMC/OFC, OMC/OMC, OMC/OMC/OFC
Series: The Owner’s Guide to Proper Hybrid Care and Maintenance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681843
Comments: 2
Kudos: 119





	1. Delivery Confirmation

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely fiction in every possible way. If you’ve been jerking off in self-isolation as much as I have, I hope this is a boon for your imagination. Enjoy!

Sam gets up and walks to the window again. "Nothing."

"The delivery window is 10-2," Greg reminds him. "It’s only 12:30."

Sam knows that; it doesn’t make the anticipation any less intense. They’ve been waiting for this delivery for months—longer, counting the planning and saving. But months since they got on the waitlist. Sam wants the delivery yesterday, not an hour from now. 

"Go make lunch, it’ll take your mind off it," Greg suggests. "And if you aren’t hungry, you can always make me lunch."

Sam sighs, stretches, and heads for the kitchen. It’s the right recommendation: he’s busy frying eggs when the doorbell rings. Well: fuck the eggs, then. He turns the stove off and hurries, heart thumping, to the front door. Greg’s already greeting the delivery specialist, who’s gently rolling a wooden crate into the house. He gets the door closed behind him and picks a clipboard off of it. Sam can’t keep his eyes off the air holes, too dark to let him see the into the crate. 

"Sam and Greg Merrell?"

"That’s us," Greg agrees. "You need ID?"

"No, the address and your confirmation is enough, thanks. I’m going to run you through some of the basics. I know a lot of this won’t be new information, but we always want to make sure first-time owners don’t have any surprises."

Sam’s been reading and re-reading the FAQs for months, but he’s not going to complain, not when it’s finally happening. 

"Okay. Your new hybrid—" The specialist taps the crate with his foot "—is an eighth-generation model. It’s important to remember that they don’t have human-level intelligence. It’s easy to get confused because this type looks pretty close to human, but you won’t be doing her any favours if you treat her like she has much comprehension, because she doesn’t. 

"The hybrids are specially bred for just a few important traits: sweet dispositions, good looks, and high sex drives. We’re not kidding about that last one. Whatever you’ve seen in the introductory videos, you probably aren’t prepared for the reality. She’s been in transit for a couple of days now; when you open this up, she’ll be ready to hump absolutely anything just to get a fix. 

"The company retains all rights to offspring of the hybrid. Frankly, you don’t want the hassle, believe me. Give us a call when she goes into labour and we’ll come pick up the pups, no charge. These hybrids, generally speaking, they’re fertile as rabbits and they whelp just as easy. And they don’t remember the pups—lot of people worry about that—but taking them away sends the hybrids into an immediate heat."

He pauses, suddenly leaving the realm of the prepared speech. "And just—it’ll be the greatest sex of your life. Guaranfuckingteed. That’s not a company guarantee, that’s me saying it, but trust me on this one."

He looks back at his clipboard. "Where were we—uh, okay. Your hybrid is cross-fertile with humans and dogs. You should expect destructive behaviour if she doesn’t get fucked regularly. We advise crate-training or, ideally, a pet room for when you’re at work."

"Oh, I work from home," Sam offers. 

The specialist eyes him. "Well, good luck with that when she’s begging for cock on the hour, every hour." He looks down again. "We recommend a vet visit in the first three days. Warranty expires in ten. She’s up to date on her shots and, as ordered, she hasn’t been spayed." He rifles through the papers, then says, "That’s all she wrote. Okay. Signature here, please."

Greg signs. Sam’s too busy looking at the padlock on the crate, too ready to open it already. He only pays nominal attention to Greg accepting carbon copies and a key from the specialist, and the specialist letting himself out. 

He pays a _lot_ of attention to Greg opening the padlock and getting the side of the crate open to the padded inside and—their hybrid, who blinks into the light and then climbs out. She—it?—she moves slowly at first and then, once she spots them, much faster. 

He knew what to expect, mostly. She’s naked, of course, and smaller than he was expecting, with short hair and interestingly well-developed arm musculature. That’s from walking on hands and knees, he guesses. 

She does look remarkably human. It’s disconcerting, a little, except that something about her eyes makes it obvious she’s not connecting to them the way a person would. She’s responding to pure, base need, and as Sam watches, she comes right up to him and rubs her face on his crotch through his sweats. Jesus fuck. 

"That’s it, pet," Greg says, which makes her notice him. She’d been sitting on her heels at Sam’s feet, but now she lifts her hips, spreading her thighs, begging with her whole body. "Yeah? Yeah, you need it, huh?" He kneels down and runs his hands down her back, cups her ass. "Quite a way to introduce ourselves," he says, looking up at Sam. 

"Introduction video says just go for it," Sam reminds him. He doesn’t think Greg needs the reminder; it’s just a little stranger than they’d anticipated. They’ll get used to it, though. They’ll get used to it fast, he suspects, if she’s always this blatant about her needs. She’s downright sucking Sam’s cock through the heavy fabric of his sweatpants already, like she can’t stand waiting. Like she doesn’t know how to take them off. 

He can help with that. He fumbles with the drawstring and then gives up and just shoves them down anyway, tight but doable. The moment his cock’s free, she’s on him, hands and mouth, like she needs cock more than air. "Fucking—oh, god," Sam mumbles. 

"Can you get lower?" Greg asks. "This angle’s not gonna work for me."

"Y-yeah," Sam gasps. "Fuck. Hang on." He has to push her off of him, and she starts whining as soon as his cock leaves her mouth. The moment he lets go, settled on his knees on the rug, she’s back on him, sucking him down. 

Greg’s still just feeling her up, but she’s whining again, shoving her hips back at him as best she can without losing her place on Sam’s cock. "Jeez, Greg. Can’t you see how much she needs it? You can grope her later. Give her your cock already." 

Greg makes a noise Sam’s only previously heard from him when he’s getting fucked hard, and his hands shake as much as Sam’s did when he tries to get his jeans open. "This is, uh," Greg says, and runs out of words. Sam gets it, anyway. He reaches down and pets her head and she makes a sound like purring that vibrates along his cock. Fuck, he’s close already. He pets her cheek and the soft skin next to her eye, and the soft fluff of her hair. This sexy little creature is _theirs_. 

Her eyes flash open, a low squeal of obvious pleasure leaving her throat, and Sam looks up to see Greg holding his cock and running it up and down her wet pussy. She must be really fucking wet, based on what Sam can see. He’s heard the hybrids get wet on a whole other level; he can’t fucking wait to try it. "Just fuck her, Greg," he urges, his voice getting gritty now. "Please. I want to watch." 

Greg glances up at Sam. He looks fucked-out already, eyes dark, lips parted. He watches Sam as his hips shift forward, fucking all the way into her. She squeals again, rolling her hips back against him, and this time Greg doesn’t tease; he just starts fucking her, letting his gaze drop from Sam to the way her body is arching for more. 

"So good," Greg growls. Sam nods; he can’t find words anymore, and he looks down, too, watching her suck him, watching her take Greg’s big cock. She’s been bred for this; she’s made for this, and they’re going to give her what she needs. 

He can’t last—god, he’s been building up to this orgasm since they put the order in, since before that. They’ve been preparing and ordering supplies and watching videos for months and now she’s right here, sucking him off, and he’s, god, he’s coming, trying not to grab at her head too much. 

She doesn’t try to swallow or spit; she just lets his come dribble down her chin, refocusing her efforts on licking him clean. He’s seen plenty of videos of this; if he gathers up his come and puts it on his cock, or anywhere, she’ll follow tongue-first. 

He sits back, instead, and she whines but doesn’t follow, because she’s still focused on fucking back against Greg. "God, she’s taking you easy," Sam breathes. "Never seen anyone take you that easy." Greg isn’t terrifyingly big, but he’s certainly big enough that he usually has to work up to fucking anyone, even Sam, even after all this time. 

"She’s so wet," Greg gasps. "And she’s—she’s squeezing me like nothing else, Sam, you’ve gotta feel this."

"Planning on it." Sam wants to touch, now. "Lift her up against you?"

Greg groans, liking the idea, and wraps his arms around her so he can sit back with her in his lap. She writhes on him, spreading her thighs wider around his. "I think she likes it like this," Sam says, and runs his hands up to her tits, tweaking the nipples. She squeals, pressing her chest forward for more, and he leans in to suck on one and then the other. 

He keeps expecting, amid all of her noises and gasps, the shivers and silences of orgasm. He keeps having to remind himself that she’s a hybrid, and they don’t orgasm like people do. She’s in semi-constant orgasmic pleasure; for her, there’s no real distinction except between not being fucked and being fucked. 

That doesn’t mean he can’t make it even better for her, though, or that he doesn’t want to try a few more things while she’s held up to Greg’s chest like this. He has to get most of the way onto his belly to get his mouth on her clit, but he’s rewarded by the taste of her, surprisingly warm and lush. Maybe they breed for that, too. She grabs for his head, ruder than he’d been when she was blowing him; he likes it, that sign that she doesn’t want him to stop. 

Greg’s shoving up into her, and it’s hard to keep his tongue on her clit, so Sam goes back to sucking her tits for a minute and gets his hand on her instead. She’s squealing and whining so much he can’t even tell what she likes best; maybe she likes all of it. Maybe she’d like anything they wanted to give her. 

She squeals again when Greg comes; maybe she could tell, or maybe it was just a coincidence. When he pulls her off his cock, though, she swings around to lick him clean, so maybe she did know. 

Greg pets her hair the way Sam had, and then pulls her gently away from him. "Okay, let’s take a breather," he tells her, gently.

"She can’t understand you," Sam points out. "Um, should we take her upstairs?"

Greg nods and gets to his feet, the hybrid sticking close to him but not trying to get at his cock anymore. She crawls alongside him as they head upstairs, Sam trailing after, and he opens the door to the pet room. "This is for you," he tells her; Sam doesn’t bother to repeat his point. 

They’ve gotten the room well-prepped. There’s a big cushion for her to sleep on, food and water bowls, her collar and leash, and a basket of silicone toys for when they have to leave her alone for a while. To his surprise, she goes right for the collar and leash, sniffing and touching them. "Yeah, okay," Sam says. His own throat is tight with how much he’s been looking forward to putting a collar on her, ever since they ordered her. 

He unbuckles it carefully; it’s belt-style, not the quick-release type used for dogs and cats. She stares at him as he wraps it around her throat and threads the end through the buckle, tightening it down. Curious, he tightens it a little too much, digging into the skin, and she makes a soft noise that doesn’t sound like an objection. He stops, swallowing, and just fastens it appropriately instead, tucking two fingers underneath to check the fit. "Good girl," he tells her. 

"She can’t understand you," Greg says, a laugh in his voice. 

"Yeah, yeah. What are we gonna call her?" There’s a nameplate for the collar, but they haven’t known what to inscribe on it. 

"Dunno yet," Greg says. "What’s a good name for such a good pet?"

"Nothing too human," Sam suggests. Greg hums agreement. "But nothing too—not a dog name."

Greg crouches beside them and puts his fingers on her jaw, lifting her head so he can look at the collar. "Shit, that looks good on her, doesn’t it? We certainly got a good one." 

"Yeah," Sam agrees. Maybe it’s the touching, or the scrutiny, or the collar, but she’s not looking so calm now. "I’m gonna fuck her."

Greg pushes back up to his feet. "In here, or—?"

In here, among all the pet toys and paraphernalia they’ve been stocking up. "Yeah, in here. On her bed." He nudges her towards it; she doesn’t seem to want to move away from him, but he manages to move her over onto it. She rolls over easily, spreading her thighs and reaching for him. "She knows what she’s for, Jesus. She wants to get fucked again already."

"That’s it, good pet," Greg says, stepping closer. "Good girl. Give it to her, Sam. She needs it again already."

"Two days of not getting fucked at all," Sam says, stroking down the inside of her thigh and pushing two fingers into her. "Gonna fuck your come right out of her." 

Greg laughs. "Go for it. I’ve got a great view from here, we should bring a chair in later. This’ll be my viewing corner for when you want to lay her out on her cushion and give it to her good." 

Sam loves Greg’s dirty mouth so much. "Yeah," he says. "Listen to her begging for it." She is: not with words, of course, but with her sounds and her whole body, shifting herself closer like she can work her way onto Sam’s cock without him noticing, with his fingers still in her. "Those breeders know what they’re doing, don’t they?"

"Give her your cock, Sam, don’t make her wait anymore. He’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry. He’s gonna fuck you right through the cushion." 

Sam supposes he’s done making any of them wait. He pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock in, gentle. Trying for gentle, except that she wraps her heels around his back and shoves up against him, taking him deep. "Oh, fuck," Sam manages. He hauls her hips up, her shoulders still on the floor, so he can shove into her the way she clearly wants it. 

"God, that’s good," Greg says, dropping to a crouch again. "Look at her tits bouncing like that. The noises are really something, huh? I don’t think the videos prepared me for that." 

"Maybe she’s, uh, noisier than the rest," Sam says. "Maybe she likes it even more than most hybrids." She’s squeezing his cock—Greg had said that, hadn’t he, and god, it’s true, she’s got incredible muscles in there. 

"Maybe we fuck better than most people," Greg suggests, laughing, and then he’s leaning over her to suck on one nipple. He turns back to Sam for a moment to say, "After we breed her, we can milk her," which is nothing more than a statement of fact but it makes Sam shudder, hips jerking, imagining it. Imagining the pair of them sucking on her tits together, her belly swollen. The noises she’d make _then_ , crying for them to fuck her, hormonal and needy. 

Sam’s just come; he shouldn’t be this close already, but then again, what’s the harm? They have her now, their own hybrid. He’ll fuck her again as soon as he can, and after that, and after that. "Good pet," he mumbles, and goes for it, hips rabbiting until he’s coming inside her. 

Greg gets out of the way so she can turn around and lick Sam clean, her demeanor calm again now she’s been fucked. "That’s what we should call her," Greg says, apropos of nothing. 

"Hmm?" Sam’s a little more focused on the sweet little swipes of her tongue on his over-sensitive cock; if there was an obvious lead-in to Greg’s comment, he missed it.

"Pet," Greg says. "Our sweet little Pet." 

"It’s a little on the nose," Sam says, but he likes it already. "That’s enough, Pet," he tries out, pushing her off his cock. She sighs but lets him, and climbs back onto the center of the cushion, looking ready for a nap. 

"Naptime for Pet," Greg says, getting up. "Let’s let her settle in."

Sam can’t help but pause at the doorway of the room, looking at her: naked and temporarily sated and _theirs_. "Pet," he tries again, softly. "Yeah. I like it." 

"Good," Greg says, closing the door. "Then it’s settled."


	2. Vet Visit

"Oh, my, look at her," the receptionist says. "You’ll be the Merrells? Exam room three, please. You can go ahead and get her in the stirrups or you can wait for the doctor, up to you." 

Sam doesn’t miss the way Greg’s face colors up at the word "stirrups." He feels exactly that way about the leash he’s got on Pet today. "Thanks," Sam says, and puts a hand on Greg’s lower back to keep him moving ahead of Pet into the right exam room. 

It’s a small room: computer, jars of treats, exam table with fresh paper. "Let’s get her up on it," Sam says. "Give you a little more time to get yourself under control before the doctor comes in."

"You’re funny," Greg says, but he’s picking Pet up and depositing her on the table, encouraging her to lie back. "That’s it, good girl." The stirrups are easy to pull up and into place, and Greg looks like he’s enjoying himself, so Sam stands back and lets him work. Pet objects momentarily when the cold metal touches her, but Greg steps up to the end of the table and cups his hand on her pussy, letting her grind against the heel of his hand, and then she goes easy for anything he wants like always. 

"That’s it, girl," he says again, tucking her feet into the stirrups and velcroing her ankles so she can’t pull away. He rewards her again with his hand, and then with three thick fingers, thumb on her clit, because Greg’s a softie. Sam moves his own hand to her collar, tracing it and pulling gently at the leash clip until she arches her back, tits in the air. "She does really like that collar," Greg says. "Don’t you, girl? Yeah, you like it." 

The exam door opens. "Oh, very nice, thank you, she’s beautifully settled. I’m Dr. Roy, you must be the Merrells. And this is Pet?"

Greg steps back, wiping his hand on the paper under her thigh. "Yeah. I’m Greg, this is Sam." 

Dr. Roy is young and matter-of-fact. "Okay. I’m going to give you probably more information than you need, but it’s better to get some of it twice than any of it not at all, if that’s alright with you both. Oh—Greg, you probably want to keep touching her, it’ll keep her calm on the table. When I need you to move, I’ll tell you. Sam, I do need access to this end, thanks." 

Sam unclips the leash and steps back against the wall. The doctor starts doing his exam—looking into Pet’s eyes and ears with a small light, opening her mouth and sweeping two fingers around until she starts sucking on them, testing her pulse just above her collar—talking as he goes. 

"You’ve got a young hybrid here, that’s good. She doesn’t have a spay scar, so I’ll talk to you about fertility in a minute. Key things to know are nutrition and training. It’s tempting to give hybrids a lot of table scraps, but I really want to discourage you from doing it. The best way to make her feel loved and safe is to feed her sexual needs. She’ll do well on the commercial food by itself, and you should stick to that. 

"The sex drive of these hybrids is really off the charts. Do you have toys?"

"Yeah," Greg says. "Silicone, and we’re cleaning them regularly."

"Mm. That’s a good start, but you need to be realistic about what she needs in the longer run. Right now, she’s new and exciting, you’re fucking her five times a day, she’s doing fine. But you need to prepare for when you’re tired, or you have a cold, or you’re on a trip. Those toys won’t be enough for her. Your best options are generally a hybrid group in your neighborhood, if you have one, or a dog, or a second hybrid. Fucking machines are a popular option but I don’t think it’s the right choice in the long run. She needs sex, not just penetration. I’ve seen some failure-to-thrive cases where the pet’s worn out on a fucking machine but not getting enough of the real thing—you don’t want that."

He’s moving on to her tits now, massaging them, pulling at the nipples. Pet’s grabbing for him, but Dr. Roy seems familiar enough with hybrid behaviour to know that if he puts her hands on her own tits as soon as he’s done examining them, she’ll get distracted by touching herself. Sam only recently learned that trick himself, but Dr. Roy seems like a pro. 

Dr. Roy pauses to listen to her heart and lungs in a few spots, and then palpates her belly. "Good. So far she’s definitely healthy. Greg, I’m going to take your place, please—thank you," as Greg steps away and Dr. Roy takes his place at the end of the table. Pet’s staring at him, fascinated, toying with her own nipples. "Okay, this section of the exam is about reproductive health, responsiveness, and your warranty. We’re within the ten days?"

"Yeah," Sam says. 

"Good, good. Generally what I’m looking for there is any signs of pain that might suggest a larger problem." He’s palpating her belly again, lower, and then he switches to stroking down her inner thighs. She shivers, rolling her hips toward him as well as she can, reaching for him again. "Sam, can you hold her hands for me, please? Thanks." 

Sam gets them up over her head, wrists crossed, which only serves to make her want it more. He hopes that’s okay; he hasn’t found a way of pinning her that doesn’t make her more desperate for cock. "Very good," Dr. Roy says. "Is she always this wet?" 

Greg leans in closer. "Yeah, that’s pretty normal." 

"Excellent. Okay, let’s—" Dr. Roy runs his hand down her pussy. Sam cranes closer, watching; he does it differently than they do, his hand fisted with his knuckles pointed into her and his thumb rubbing circles on her clit. Pet squeals, hips twisting, shoving herself down the table toward him. "Very responsive. Very good. Okay, we try not to use speculums on the hybrids, so Greg, if you can hold my light, I’m going to open her with my hands and get a good look." He pulls out a stool from under the table, Pet whining at the loss of touch, but then his hands are on her again. "Oh, Greg, there’s a hand mirror by the computer there—you can let Sam watch, too." 

Greg grins at Sam and sets up the mirror for him. Sam’s not as into this as Greg is, but he’s certainly glad not to be left out. 

Dr. Roy hooks the first two fingers of each hand inside Pet and gently spreads her open. "Beautiful, beautiful," he says. "Look at all that healthy tissue. I usually see abrasions at these first exams, all the early excitement of the new purchase, but she looks excellent. That extra wetness is a good protective factor, and I can see she opens up easily, too. She’ll be healthier and happier in the long term. Good muscle tone, too, she’s trying to pull my fingers right into her."

Sam pets her hair and she nuzzles up towards his fingers. He’s pretty sure it’s okay to let her suck on a couple; she looks like she needs it a lot right now. "Good girl," he says, trailing them in front of her so she straightens up instead of twisting her neck and then letting her have them. She does need them; she sucks so hard the sound of it interrupts Dr. Roy.

"Oh, good thinking, yes," Dr. Roy says. "Sorry, I do get distracted during this part of the exam. As you might imagine. Okay, I’ll be sending the nurse in for a blood sample, but the last part of the physical exam is a fuck. It’s a little easier for me to evaluate if I do it, but some owners prefer to do it themselves and I’ll observe—well, it’s a fairly hands-on observation. Any strong preference?"

Sam cuts his eyes to Greg, putting away the mirror, but Greg’s already saying, a little too fast, "Oh, you should—please go ahead." So perhaps less the exam table and the stirrups than the whole thing, doctor and all. Sam’s very much looking forward to roleplaying _that_ later. 

"Okay, sweetheart, I’ll give you what you’re begging for," Dr. Roy says. He has a good way with Pet; she stops squirming quite so much, like she knows what’s coming. Maybe she does, since he’s already unbuckling his belt and opening his fly. He pushes in, one smooth motion. "What I’m looking for here is subtle pain reactions as well as general responsiveness and behavior. She’s actively squeezing me—that’s a very good sign. You don’t tend to see that in hybrids who are fucking through discomfort. She’s looking for more stimulation, not less. 

"I’m going to do some other testing with my fingers. Again, we’re looking for—oh, wow, she really likes that, huh? A lot of hybrids are pretty take-it-or-leave it for clit play, but she’s just, wow, every time I touch her she just clamps right down on me. Labia now—yeah, only getting good reactions. Perineum, excellent. She’s, wow, she’s really, uh. You guys are really gonna need to get a dog or another hybrid or join a group or something, she’s gonna wear you out. Fuck." His hips stutter. "We usually don’t—more common practice is to stop—" His voice trails off, a question he doesn’t want to have to ask out loud.

"Go for it," Sam says. "We’re trying to breed her anyway, you can give it a shot." 

"Jesus," Dr. Roy says, and then he’s closing his eyes and just enjoying himself, shoving his cock into Pet. Sam lets go of her arms and she grabs for him, then, when he doesn’t step into range, for her clit and one nipple, rubbing and squeezing. She’s arching, shoving into Dr. Roy, leg muscles working to use the fixed stirrups as leverage instead of a hindrance. "Jesus, yeah, you want it, girl, don’t you?"

Pet whines as though she’s understood. Sam wants to feed her his cock, because he knows she wants it much more than she wants his fingers, but he’ll do that when they get home. Or possibly in the car. 

Dr. Roy grunts, shoving in deep, and then relaxes. "Ah, fuck, that was good. Thanks, guys." He pulls out, come trailing off his cock, and then puts his hand back to her pussy. Sam can’t quite see, but he’s almost certain Dr. Roy is fingering his come back into Pet. He’s gentling her down, too, one hand stroking her thigh firmly until she relaxes into the table. 

"Well," Dr. Roy says after a minute, tucking himself back in. "You’ve got a particularly nice hybrid on your hands here. Pending the blood test, that’s a clean bill of health from me, and I think you don’t need to worry about your warranty. I’d hang onto this one." 

"Thanks," Greg says. 

Dr. Roy nods. "Pull her off the table for the nurse, please. Best option is a blowjob—the nurse can get a few samples that way while she’s distracted. Usually they don’t even notice. I’ll look forward to the next checkup—make sure you book her in as soon as you think she’s been bred successfully, okay? I’ll talk to you about nutritional and positional changes while she’s breeding." He nods at them both and steps out, and Greg’s at Pet’s pussy before the door even closes, pushing his fingers into her. 

"She just calmed down," Sam says, but he understands, too. "She liked it, huh? Her first new cock."

"Not her first, don’t be ridiculous," Greg says. "Those hybrid farms are one big all-day orgy. But—yeah, her first with us. She really liked it." He moves his hand and she whines again. "I really liked it. What’d’you think one of these tables costs? Or just the stirrups. I’d like to put her up in these ourselves, just for fun."

"I can tell you would," Sam grins. "Let’s get her off the table and she can blow you, okay? I’m not letting you drive home this hard, you’re a danger to yourself and others." 

"Fuck off," Greg says, genial, and undoes the velcro of the first strap and then the second. Sam lets him lift her off the table; there’s no question which of them is better-suited to the heavy-lifting aspects of hybrid care. As soon as she’s on the floor next to him, Pet’s wrapped around Greg’s legs, trying to grind up against him and get her mouth on his cock at the same time. It’s sweet. "It’s okay, Pet, I’ve got you." He opens his fly for her, lets her take him in. "Ah, yeah. Fuck. I hope the nurse is coming in soon, because I’m pretty fucking ready to come." 

"I’ll swap in if you do," Sam says. 

"Yeah, selfless of you." Greg laughs, runs his fingers through Pet’s hair. "You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Getting through your first vet exam so well. You got the doctor so hot for you, Pet. Got me so hot for you. When we get home I’m gonna put you on the dining room table and hold your ankles up and fuck you just like he did."

Sam’s given up on telling Greg _she can’t understand you_ ; at this point, he’s concluded that Greg’s really talking to himself, enjoying the chance to speak his fantasies. Sam had always thought Greg’s dirty mouth was for Sam; it turns out it’s self-pleasure, too. 

Pet’s grabbing at Greg’s hips, dragging him closer, and Sam steps up to hold her hands again so she doesn’t tip them over. It’s a nice chance to get close and breathe her in, too, the way she smells when she’s been freshly fucked. He’s kneeling next to Pet, face in her neck, when the door opens again, and Sam turns to see the nurse with a finger over her lips and a needle in the other hand. He nods—maybe Greg does too—and tucks his face back into Pet’s neck to help keep her distracted while she sucks Greg off. 

The nurse is getting up again and leaving before Sam entirely notices she’s done anything at all. Maybe Pet’s not the only one easily distracted by a blowjob. "Good girl," Greg grunts, and visibly lets himself slip over the edge. Pet moans, licking at him, come dripping all over her face and her tits like always. 

" _Messy_ girl," Sam corrects, and glances at the door before giving into his urge to clean her up with his own tongue, lingering on her nipples and then on her mouth where it’s still nuzzling Greg’s cock. 

Greg makes a stifled noise and steps back from them. "You’re gonna get me going again already, the pair of you. Let’s get our girl home and do filthy things to her in private, please, instead." 

Sam likes that plan.


	3. Pet-Warming Party

"I’ll bring her out on the leash, just in case."

Greg’s carefully toweling water off the glasses in the dishwasher and putting them away; he turns towards Sam and shakes his head. "Just in case what? If she attacks anyone, it’ll just be with her tongue."

"What if—"

"I’m not saying don’t do it," Greg interrupts. "Go for it. I know you get off on that leash. _She_ gets off on that leash."

"She gets off on everything," Sam says. He can hear a little awe in his own voice. "When I woke up this morning she was riding one of her toys in the corner. She’s so—shameless." 

"Uh-huh," Greg says. "Why don’t you go put the leash on her now? Call it a test run." 

Sam loves Greg so much. "Yeah—yeah, I’ll go—test run her." 

He’s hard already, and naked like they almost always are in the house these days, so he doesn’t take the stairs two at a time like he wants to. Pet’s in her room, napping on the cushion, but she stirs as soon as he steps in. Her leash is on a hook on the wall, and as soon as he grabs it, she’s up on all fours and moving towards him. "Yeah, you love being on your leash, don’t you?" He’s picking up Greg’s habits, he thinks, talking to her like she can understand. She likes the sound, at least, or maybe she associates that tone with cock. Either way, she comes in close and mouths at him like always, and when he clips the leash on she makes a pleasure noise. 

He doesn’t do anything special; they don’t need anything special right now, with the party coming up. He just pulls her down to all fours again with some pressure on the leash and then moves around behind her without letting up. She’s shoving her pussy up against him before he’s even lined up. "Yeah, Pet. That’s my girl. Fuck yourself on me, c’mon." He holds still, lining up but waiting for her to shove back on him as fast as she wants, as deep as she wants. She always wants more than he’d have given her, faster and harder. 

Pet’s rolling her head, pushing back onto his cock but also pulling forward against the leash, and he gives her what she wants, holds it tight for her. “Just for a minute,” he tells her, and she presses forward into the pressure and groans.

Sam takes over the fuck while she’s dividing her focus, holding the leash tight in one hand on her back and using the other to pull her hips to him. His ass is sore from trying to teach her to ride him yesterday—she’s only managed to learn to straddle him, so far, but he has to do all the work. It doesn’t matter; he’d fuck through a lot more than sore muscles for Pet. “Yeah, good girl,” he tells her, as she strains against the leash, breathing harsh. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” 

She whines when he loosens up the leash, but then she’s shoving back against him, needy on a whole new level now. “Jesus,” he manages, and then just joins her, meeting her rhythm with his own thrusts. He squeezes her ass just to hear her squeal, and then he’s coming, pumping her full. 

Pet scrambles around to clean him up, and he sits back on his heels, winding the leash a little tighter as she licks him. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, petting her hair. “I can’t wait to show you off to all my friends.”

“Our friends,” Greg says from the corner. “That was hot.” 

“Mm, you gonna come in and take a turn?”

Greg shakes his head. “Some of us are trying to get the house ready, not just the hostess.” His tone is gentle, though. “Let her nap a while, she’s got a busy evening ahead.”

Sam gentles her off him; she looks calmed enough to rest again. He unclips the leash and balls it up in his hand; she’s taken to whining when he takes it away from her, but it helps to hide it in his fist and then, as he rises, behind his back. 

She doesn’t follow him; she’s licking her lips and her eyelids are drooping when Sam lets himself out. “Okay. I’ll clean, you cook?” 

“You’ll clean and then you’ll come help me cook,” Greg counters. “Yeah.” He tugs Sam in and kisses the side of his head. “Put some pants on, I don’t want you accidentally bleaching your dick.”

*-*-*-*

They keep Pet upstairs until everyone’s arrived and filled up on hors-d’oeuvres. It’s not a huge party: four good friends, all very curious to meet Pet. They’ve sent a couple of videos out—it’s been impossible not to brag—and a couple of good photos with the invitation emails, so everyone’s more than ready to try her out. 

Cassie, who’s always first in line for a margarita refill, crows, “Okay, we’ve eaten, let’s get this show on the road, guys!” and the rest of the room cracks up. 

“You’ve got one at home, Cass, calm down,” Jim says. “Anyway, this one likes cock.”

Sam shrugs. “We haven’t tried her out on pussy yet, who knows. But yeah. She fucking loves cock.” 

It gets a laugh, even though it isn’t a joke. Sam’s friends are a good bunch, though, and they’re easily amused by almost anything. “Go on, then,” Greg says. “Go get her.” To the room at large, he says, “She’s been in her room since we started cooking, so she’s gonna be pretty desperate.”

“The horror,” Dave says, grinning. “I can help her with that if you want.”

“Yeah, yeah, all right, everyone’ll get a go. Or two, if you want. She’s—” Sam finds himself having to bite back the besotted smile he can feel wanting to spread over his face. “She can go forever.” 

Cassie laughs, too loud. “He’s so smitten!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says, face heated, and he darts upstairs to get her. Predictably, she’s on him the moment he opens the door, but he urges her back and grabs the leash. Clipping it on her collar both riles her up more and gives her something to focus on that isn’t mouthing him through his slacks, and it makes it much easier to lead her downstairs and into the living room. 

Someone wolf-whistles. “Wow, the photos did _not_ do her justice,” Lane murmurs. 

“Let her loose already!” Dave’s laughing, but he’s hard, too, more than visible through his chinos. “C’mon, let’s get this party started.” 

Sam pets her head and unclips the leash. She turns to him, first, but he nudges her towards the center of the room, and she spots Dave, leaning forward with a hand on his crotch. “Oh, yeah,” Dave says, watching her lock on him and crawl forward. “Jeez. I’ve got to get one of these hybrids.” 

“She can’t get your cock out for you,” Greg points out, because she’s already halfway onto his lap, trying to suck him through the pants. “And if you don’t want a blowjob, you’re gonna have to turn her around.” 

Lane reaches in to stroke Pet’s back, and then reaches under to pinch one of Pet’s nipples. “God. Turn her around and let me see if she eats pussy, Dave.” She lets go long enough to unfasten her own pants as Dave figures out how to re-orient Pet. 

Greg leans into Sam. “Look at her. She’s so relaxed.” 

“I don’t think that’s the word,” Sam says, because Pet’s grinding back against Dave as hard as she can, desperate to be filled, but he knows what Greg means. “Yeah. She’s so ready for them to fuck her.” 

Pet looks up at Greg, whining. “Lane, hurry up, she wants more,” Greg says. “Dave—” He doesn’t need to finish the sentence; Dave’s given up on figuring out a seated option and has slid off the couch onto his knees, pressing his cock into Pet almost as part of the same motion. “Nice.”

“Really fucking nice,” Dave grunts. He’s going slower than Pet wants; Sam remembers that from when Cassie got her hybrid, suddenly, that he’d taken his time. He’s gripping Pet’s hips firmly, making her stay still for him. Pet dips to her elbows, trying to get some kind of extra stimulation from him. 

Jim and Cassie are crowding in closer, and Lane sits on the edge of the sturdy ottoman, thighs spread, just inside Pet’s reach.

Pet looks—hmm. Curious, definitely, but not launching towards it the way she definitely would if Jim had sat there instead. “She must’ve been around pussy at the hybrid farm,” Sam whispers to Greg.

Greg shrugs. “Yeah, but they knew who the buyers were. They wouldn’t have sent us a hybrid that wasn’t focused on cock.”

As they watch, Lane slides in closer. Pet can’t help herself; she grabs for Lane’s thighs, holding herself up that way instead of on hands and knees, pressing her face into Lane’s pussy. She’s sniffing more than anything, and then— “Oh, fuck,” Lane mutters. Pet’s started licking in little darting strokes like she’s testing it out. Maybe she likes what she tastes, because she switches quickly to broader, deeper strokes. She seems surprised, and pleased, to find her tongue can go right into Lane’s pussy.

Dave’s slowed to barely moving at all, fingers digging into Pet’s hips, as fascinated as the rest of the room by Pet’s explorations of Lane. Lane leans back on her elbows and hikes one hip up onto the ottoman to spread wider for Pet, and so they can all watch. “Good girl,” Greg tells Pet. “Lane, I bet if you guide her hand at first, you could get her to finger you.” 

Lane leans up and gets Pet’s hand in hers, brings it to her pussy. “Fuck, she’s got me wet. C’mere, girl, put—like this—” 

Pet’s too busy sucking on Lane’s fingers at first to notice what Lane’s doing with her hand, but as soon as her fingers are inside Lane’s pussy, she squeals. “Oh, she likes it,” Sam interprets. Lane guides her a little more, moving Pet’s hand in and out, and then lets go. Pet immediately puts her mouth back on Lane’s pussy and on her own fingers, licking them clean and putting them back in for more. 

“That’ll work,” Lane groans. “Not bad at all.” She threads her fingers into Pet’s hair and looks up at Dave. “What’re you waiting for?”

Dave shakes his head. “No one appreciates the value of a good, slow fuck.”

“Not when we’re waiting our turns,” Jim says, pointedly, but he’s grinning. “C’mon, take her through her paces for us. You can go again later if you want slow.”

Greg steps up closer. “She’s only really got two. Needy, and briefly sated.” He kneels next to her and runs a hand under her belly, up to her tits. She purrs, licking faster at Lane’s clit. “And the more she gets touched, the more she touches, so—”

“Gotcha,” Dave says, and slips a hand down to her clit. Pet squeals, pushing her whole face into Lane, frantic now. “What’s she do when you’re not spitroasting her, then?”

Sam shrugs. “If there’s nothing to mouth she focuses on the fuck. And on touching herself, especially if you get her started. You put her hand on her clit and she’ll touch herself, but mostly she forgets she can do that unless she’s prompted. It’s adorable.”

“Smitten!” Cassie says again, but this time she sounds charmed. It’s easy to be charmed by Pet, Sam thinks. And they haven’t even seen her at her best. 

“After you guys, we should show you how to really rile her up,” Sam suggests. “Let me hold her back on the leash while Jim taunts her with his cock—she goes fucking wild.”

“Um, sold,” Jim says. 

Dave grunts and starts fucking her for real, finally. Pet’s noises go into overdrive, and—maybe because she’s now sucking frantically on Lane’s clit—so do Lane’s. Lane’s got a hand fisted in Pet’s hair now, keeping her close; Sam’s pretty sure it couldn’t be less necessary, but he knows Pet likes having her hair pulled so he doesn’t intervene. 

Lane pushes Pet off before Sam expects her to. “That’s—fucking intense,” she says. “Your girl’s a Hoover, Sam.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, grinning. Pet’s reaching for Greg, still beside her, but he plants her hands back on the ground and lets Dave focus on driving into her. Dave’s giving it to her good, and Pet whines and presses back towards him, wanting even more. 

Jim says, “Insatiable,” and Cassie says, draining her wine, “That’s what they’re bred for, Jim, it’s the whole point.” Jim just grunts, which is usually the best technique when Cassie’s in a mood. 

“Fuck,” Dave groans, and then he must be coming, because Pet’s pulling away and turning around to lick him clean. He only lets her for a moment, then pushes her away. “Too much, girl. Go suck something else.”

Sam catches Jim’s eye. “Let me leash her?”

“Yeah. I want to see that,” Cassie says. “Mine doesn’t like the leash much.”

“Oh, Pet does,” Greg says. “More importantly, she loves Sam holding the leash. It’s their very favorite toy.” Sam’s face heats up, but he’s too turned on to mind the teasing. He steps in and clips the leash onto Pet and then pulls her back from Jim. 

Greg steps away, letting Jim be Pet’s focus. “Just—waggle it at her,” Greg suggests. 

“Sexy,” Jim deadpans, but he gets his cock out and makes sure she can see it, fisting it and pointing it right at her. Pet squirms, reaching for him, pressing forward against the pressure on her collar. The combination of wanting to get to Jim and of the tight collar makes her double down: squealing and whining, scratching at the carpet. She’s straining so hard her breathing is changing, and Sam doesn’t want to choke her—much—so he reaches down and hauls her back with a hand on the collar so he can unclip the leash.

Pet’s on Jim like a flash, but he’s more of a pro than Dave was: he has her turned around and on her back on the coffee table in a matter of seconds. “Wanted to see her better,” he says to no one in particular, and then pushes into her. Jim’s a big guy with a big cock, and the noise Pet makes when he fucks up into her is one of surprised excitement. She likes it even better when he starts playing with her tits, everyone crowding around to watch. 

“Greg likes to—” Sam says, and then demonstrates, pulling Pet’s legs up from where they’re wrapped around Jim’s body and pushing them up and back instead. It bares more of her pussy to their gaze, and it makes it easy for Lane to lean in and rub Pet’s clit.

Pet nuzzles towards Greg, and he pets her hair. “Good girl. You like that, huh?” He takes over holding her near leg from Sam. “Anybody want her mouth? Not the best angle, but—”

“Pretty good angle for me,” Cassie interrupts. “Now she’s figured out the basics on Lane.” She’s climbing over Pet’s face before she’s done with the sentence, pushing her pussy down onto Pet’s willing tongue. Pet makes a noise that’s disconcertingly close to a giggle—something delighted, at any rate, if Sam’s any judge. Given how much of every day he spends listening to Pet’s noises, he thinks he’s got a pretty good sense of them. 

Dave’s sprawled on the couch, the only spot that gets him a reasonably good view of the proceedings. Sam shifts to the side to give him a better one. “She’s really something,” Dave says. “Very, very nice.”

“This isn’t the half of it,” Sam says. “I swear, she’s—I can’t even explain it. A hybrid can’t be kinky, but she just … she likes everything we want to do to her. She _loves_ it.”

“Spanking?” Dave asks.

“The farm says not to, that they don’t understand it. And she doesn’t, but she gets off on it. It’s the craziest thing. I mean, we mostly do pussy spankings and the low parts of the ass, the parts that feel really good on anybody, but even so, you’d think she’d be scared or she wouldn’t like it, but she just—once I was spanking her and she just spread her legs wider and got down lower on her elbows so she could push her ass and her pussy up toward my hand, as though she was begging for more.”

Dave gets his cock back out, hard again or still hard from before, and starts stroking it slowly, listening to Sam and watching Jim fuck Pet. “What else have you tried, then? Nipple clamps?”

“Greg bought some. We haven’t tried yet. I’m a little nervous she’ll hate them.” 

“Greg’s holding her back,” Dave says, laughing. “Greg! Put that leg down and go get the nipple clamps! If she doesn’t like ‘em I’m sure someone else will.” 

Greg rolls his eyes, but he lets go of Pet’s leg. Lane holds it up instead; she’s leaned in now and has her mouth on Pet’s clit. “We’re gonna be careful,” Greg says, and goes upstairs. He’s back in a flash—he keeps a well-organized toy closet—holding the clamps and their chain. “Cassie, get off her a sec?”

“Only so you can hear how she’s gonna whine for me to sit back down,” Cassie says, and she’s right: Pet looks and sounds bereft, licking her own lips and reaching for Cassie.

“Greg’s got a good distraction for her,” Dave says. He’s sitting up now, leaning in to watch more closely. “Just try one.”

“I wasn’t gonna start with both,” Greg tells him. “Hey, Pet. Hey good girl. Gonna play with your nipple for a second, baby.” It hardly needs his touch to harden up, but it soothes her—that and Jim’s steady pounding. 

They’d been thoughtful about it and bought light-weight clamps with an adjustment option. Greg puts it on loose, barely anything. Pet looks at it fascinated, head cocked, and then touches. The clamp falls off.

“Okay, okay, too loose, no commentary from the peanut gallery.” Greg puts it on her again and tightens it down a little. Pet gasps, then touches it. It bounces a little, and she pokes it again, watching it move. “So far, so good.”

“Yeah, but do it for real now. See if she likes the bite.”

“She sure likes teeth,” Sam says. “Go on, Greg. I bet she’ll love it.”

Greg tightens it again. They can all see the way it’s pressing into her skin now, nipple turning a soft purple. Pet grabs at it; it doesn’t pull off, just tugs her nipple. She pulls again, and this time makes a soft happy noise. “Oh, that’s a good sound,” Sam says. 

“Yeah, but she might hate when it comes off,” Greg points out. “Hang on, I want to see—let me have that, Pet. That’s a girl.” He replaces her hand with his own, twisting the clamp so it twists her nipple around. Pet whimpers, very happy indeed, and reaches for him. “Yeah? Yeah, you like that. You like when we play with your nipples, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

Sam thinks it’s been long enough to try taking it off and see how she likes that stab of pain/pleasure. Greg’s always been a careful man, though, and Sam isn’t surprised that he gives it a little longer, stroking and playing with her nipple above the clamp, listening to her noises. 

Jim says, “Every time you do that she just fucking squeezes the hell out of me. Don’t stop.” 

“Yeah, watch out for this one,” Greg says, and pulls the clamp off. There’s a beat, and then Pet writhes, keening, shoving back on Jim. “God, look at her.” 

If hybrids could orgasm, Sam’s pretty sure that would have been one. Pet looks intensely blissed out. When Greg holds the clamp over her other nipple, she arches up towards it, and he laughs and bites it down on her, and then goes back to the first nipple. “Think she’ll like it on her sore one?” he asks the room at large.

“I think she likes everything,” Dave says. “Sam’s right. Usually they just like getting fucked, but your girl likes a lot more than that.” 

“Leave ‘em on her,” Jim says. He reaches up and tugs on the chain between them, and Pet whines happily. Jim’s eyes flutter. “Fuck, that’s tight, that’s so good.”

“I’m with Jim,” Dave says. “I want to see her wearing them when she cleans him up. And when you guys fuck her.” 

Greg kisses Pet’s temple and rubs the near, sore nipple. “What an amazing girl you are,” he says. He glances up at Sam. “We’re two pretty lucky bastards.”

“You really are,” Cassie says. “I’m getting back on her face now. We’ve got plenty of party time left.”

“All yours,” Greg says, and makes room.


	4. Doctor Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in this story, but there are a couple of sequels already posted in the series. If you want more Pet, I'd suggest subscribing either [to the series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681843) or [from my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyDaydreams), or else you'll miss the new updates!

Greg’s still at work when the stirrups arrive. Sam opens the box, planning to pull them out of their padded packaging and set them aside for Greg. Once he’s pulled out the directions, though, it’s easy to see how they’ll set up on the table in Pet’s room, and once he’s seen that, well … 

“Hi, good girl,” he tells Pet as he walks in, box in hand. “You’re gonna have to wait, sweetheart. Can you play with a toy for a while?”

Pet doesn’t understand a word he’s saying, but she understands, unhappily, when he pushes her away from his cock. He hates that look on her. “I’ll be quick,” he promises, hoping he actually can be. 

The instructions are clear and they aren’t missing any parts; it goes quickly, even with Pet’s plaintive whines in the corner, and the slick, distracting sounds of her playing with a toy when she realizes he’s not going to pay attention to her. 

The second-to-last step is clamping it to the table, which is the easiest instruction yet, and the last is attaching the ankle straps—optional, but Sam knows Greg more than well enough to know it’s not optional in this household. Sam steps back to check everything against the picture on the front of the instructions, but it seems he’s gotten it right. Very satisfying. 

Almost as satisfying as getting to try out the fruits of his labors. “Okay, Pet,” he murmurs, sweeping the packaging detritus into the box and setting it on the floor. “Shall we test this out for Greg, sweetheart?” 

His tone of voice probably gets across everything she needs to know, because she drops the toy and comes crawling towards him, happy again. “There you go. Okay, I’m not as strong as Greg, you’re gonna have to help me a little.” He pulls her into his arms, and she wriggles, trying to understand why his cock isn’t in her. “Not helping,” he grunts, lifting up and managing to get her ass on the table. 

He’s not sure she grasps the stirrups concept, but she certainly grasps being laid out on the table, and she’s entirely happy to let him push and pull her into position, making cheerful noises in between whining for his cock. “Good girl,” he tells her, pulling up her ankle to strap into the first stirrup. These ones are highly adjustable, and he spends a minute playing with the options before settling into what he’s sure will be their favorite, as far back and out as it will go. He loves spreading Pet as wide as he can, getting that view of her pussy opened up and soaking wet for him. 

Sam’s done waiting now, just as much as Pet is. He straps her other ankle in and quickly adjusts it back to match the first, so she’s spread out under him, whining in pleased anticipation. “Yeah, sweetheart. You like that, huh?” He cups his hand over her pussy, feeling the way she’s flexing her muscles, begging him to fuck her. 

But with her ass at the edge of the table and her pussy open to his gaze like this—there’s something he wants first. “Gonna spank you while I’ve got you all tied down like this, how’s that sound?” Pet just whines more, not understanding why he’s got her on the table but isn’t fucking her.

The first slap of his hand on her ass makes her noises change, startled and happy. It feels like it’s reverberating through him, too, roaringly hot. “God, you fucking love that, don’t you? You love—” He spanks her again, a little higher up, thumb grazing her pussy, and she squeals with delight. “—love when I spank your cute little pussy and your cute little ass.” 

He pauses to move her hands onto her tits, and she makes an excited sound as if just remembering, again, that she can pinch her own nipples. She purrs and wriggles when he spanks her again. “Yeah, that’s so good, Pet. You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” He wishes he’d thought to grab the leash, or the nipple clamps, but now he’s spanking her he doesn’t want to move away even for a second. He gets into a rhythm, keeping it light on her pussy and harder on her ass, watching her carefully for any signs of discomfort or confusion. All he gets, though, is louder and louder whines and purrs and moans, tighter pinches of her fingers on her hard nipples.

Sam can’t wait anymore. He grabs her hip and shoves into her, hard, almost as hard as she likes to push back onto him. “So hot, so—you’re such a good girl,” he groans, as she squeezes down on his cock. If she’d been happy before she’s ecstatic now, writhing as much as the restraints will let her, rolling her hips up towards his thrusts. 

That’s when Greg walks in, because Sam’s somehow lost all track of time. “Oh, fuck,” Greg says from the doorway, and Sam glances up to see Greg stripping, fast, hard already by the time he’s naked. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

Sam licks his lips and says, in his best Dr. Roy impression, “She’s very healthy. I’m just doing a thorough exam—”

“ _Jesus,_ ” Greg murmurs, and then, “Don’t stop,” when Sam pauses. 

“She’s a young, virile hybrid,” Sam says, slowing his thrusts to concentrate on the role. “Are you planning to breed her?”

“Yeah.” Greg comes in closer, squeezing Pet’s near tit and letting her suck on two of his fingers. “We want to breed her.”

Sam grins, not missing the slight change in meaning. “Well, if you want to make sure you’re the one to breed her, I can stop—”

“No, no, that’s—please, doctor,” Greg says, throaty. “She’s all yours to use as you like. She wants your cock so much, can’t you tell?”

Sam nods, faux-professional. “Oh, yes. She’s just desperate for it, isn’t she? What a special hybrid you have here. She took her spanking like a champ.” 

Greg’s breathing so heavy, Sam’s not sure he can wait to fuck Pet. “I thought we, uh, weren’t supposed to spank her.”

Sam shrugs. “I think this one needs it, don’t you? Almost as much as she needs cock.” He thrusts in again, and Pet groans in pleasure. “She needs so much cock, this special little hybrid. And she needs more than that, too, don’t you, Pet? She needs you to make sure her sexual needs are met, Greg. You want to be a good hybrid owner, don’t you?”

“Yes, doctor,” Greg moans. 

Sam fights down the urge to smile and says, instead, “Then you’d better let me show you how she needs to be fucked, after I finish examining her.”

Greg’s face says it all: Sam’s definitely landed on the right kind of doctor play for him. _Very_ hands-on. 

Sam focuses back on Pet, watching her tits bounce and the way the collar sits on her throat, feeling the grip of her pussy as she tightens down on him. It doesn’t take much effort to get off, spilling into her, and the way she’s positioned, his come stays tucked nicely inside. “That’s a convenient side effect of the stirrups,” Sam muses, getting out of the way for Greg. “Bet we can breed her this way even easier.”

Greg’s laser-focused on Pet’s pussy, dipping his fingertips in and stroking her neglected clit until Pet lets out a sound almost like a giggle. “Hi, sweetheart,” he tells Pet. “I missed you. Are you glad I’m home?”

“She’s always glad you’re home,” Sam says, and then, in his doctor voice, “It’s very important that you ensure she has plenty of stimulation.” 

Greg shudders, and reaches up to play with Pet’s nipples. He lets his cock graze her pussy, rubbing up against it but not pushing inside, and Pet whines deliciously like she always does when he teases her like that. “Very good,” Sam says. “Your hybrid seems to experience unusual amounts of pleasure from non-penetrative stimulation, although she needs plenty of penetration to be happy and healthy. But playing with the rest of her helps ensure she has a balance of sexual outlets.”

Sam’s pretty sure he’s talking nonsense, but Greg doesn’t seem to care at all. “Let me show you how to properly spank her,” he says, more for himself than for Greg. Having her spread wide like this still makes his fingers itch to spank her, even though he’s already come. 

Greg obligingly moves out of the way enough for Sam to land a few spanks on her pussy, Pet gurgling with excitement. “You see? Your hybrid needs a variety of stimulating—uh—she needs different kinds of sex play.” Dr. Roy probably wouldn’t have lost track of his sentence midway through, but Greg doesn’t seem to mind, especially when Sam gives up his place in front of Pet’s pussy. 

“All right,” Sam says. “She needs your cock now, you shouldn’t make her wait too long. Here, let me help.”

Greg groans and lets Sam wrap a hand around his cock from behind, hips tight against Greg’s, and walk him forward until the head of his cock slips into Pet’s drenched pussy. “Very nice, Greg,” Sam says, letting go but not moving back. “Now, while she’s restrained, you’ll need to make sure you’re giving it to her nice and hard, the way she wants it. It’s not kind to deprive her of the kind of hard fuck she’s been waiting for. Pet needs you to pound her pussy hard enough that she can relax afterwards.” 

Greg’s hips stutter, and Sam reluctantly steps back enough that he won’t interfere with Greg actually following the “doctor’s” instructions. “While you’re handling that, I’ll do some more of my exam,” he says, heading up to Pet’s head and running his knuckles down her cheek. She turns, tongue out, wanting to suck them, and he lets her. “Very good reflexes,” he murmurs, because it sounds like the kind of thing Dr. Roy might say. “She must suck cock almost as well as she fucks,” he adds, because he isn’t Dr. Roy and he does want to make Greg gasp and fuck into her even harder. 

Between them, it’s Greg who’s the real talker, but Sam’s enjoying this role reversal. He can wind Greg up and enjoy exploring Pet’s body while she’s all tied up, too. He pins her hands to the table above her head, wrists crossed, and says, “One option you have is to install a loop here so you can easily tie her hands up.” That’s more for Sam than Greg; the idea sends fire into his belly, picturing Pet spread wide on the stirrups with her hands in cuffs above her, writhing and whining for cock. While he spanks her, probably. Jesus. 

Greg’s speeding up, getting close. Sam was going to give her some kind of made-up breast exam, but he knows what Greg likes best and just runs a hand down to rub her clit so she’ll squeeze Greg even tighter. “Ah—fuck,” Greg gasps. “Thank you, doctor!” 

Sam can’t hold back a laugh at how sincere Greg sounds, but it doesn’t matter; Greg’s coming already, probably as much from the roleplay as the fuck. And his first go in their own stirrups, too—god, Greg’s having a hell of a good day, now Sam thinks aboout it. No wonder he didn’t mind Sam getting in that bit of spanking when he would have rather gotten right into fucking Pet. 

Sam lets go of Pet’s hands and gentles her, rubbing her belly and her sides, while Greg breathes down from it and then starts undoing the restraints. “You’re not going to keep her up there?” Sam asks. 

“God, don’t tempt me.” Greg pulls Pet forwards into his arms and deposits her on her cushion. “Not right now. I’ve gotta eat dinner before I fuck her that good again.”

Man’s got a point. “I definitely didn’t cook because I was busy putting these together. Forgive me?”

“Oh, you are extremely forgiven,” Greg tells him. “Quick leftovers and then I’m trying these out again. This might be the best thing we’ve ever bought.”

“Except Pet,” Sam says, watching her curl up and close her eyes, ready for a nap.

“Except Pet, the best thing anyone’s ever bought,” Greg agrees. “And Pet’s pussy, the best thing we own, hands down.” 

Sam laughs, flicking the light switch off as they step out. “Let’s own it again after dinner, then. And this time I won’t forget the leash.” 

“This time we’ll pull out all the stops,” Greg suggests. “She deserves it.” 

Sam couldn’t agree more.


End file.
